


Like a Flame to a Wild Moth

by Einzel



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Self-Indulgent, Sex and Intimacy, family and friends make an appearance in Chapter 3, in the meantime please enjoy awkward Yuri and supportive Kotetsu, some violent or intense imagery related to Yuri's trauma, there will be a happy ending I promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-06 22:42:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14657736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Einzel/pseuds/Einzel
Summary: “Drawn to the other like Icarus to the sun, or a moth to a flame (ironic, all things considered), Yuri arrived at the only logical conclusion, reached after a long string of sleepless nights. He had to become involved with Kaburagi Kotetsu in a different way, and infiltrate his personal life.”Yuri tries to make peace with a part of himself. As always, Kotetsu is there to help.UPDATE: Check out the officialLike a Flame to a Wild Mothplaylist on Spotify!





	1. Careless and Naive

**Author's Note:**

> I originally intended this story to be a sweet and short one-shot, but it has evolved into something much deeper since I had started it. This story is a first for me in many respects (first work for this fandom, these characters, and this particular pairing, and the first time I ventured to write more explicitly about intimacy than I am used to), but I'm very happy with what I have so far, and I hope you will enjoy it, too!
> 
> I would also like to thank the friends who encouraged me - your support meant the world!

In hindsight, Yuri had been so careless. And naive.

_“Yuri…”_

What had he been thinking, taking risk after risk after risk? Had he learned nothing from the past? Had he not paid a price worse than death to witness firsthand how arrangements based on lies and concealment always, always crumbled in the end?

_“Your face…”_

As his mind went blank, the memory of an ancient myth emerged from the depths of his addled consciousness - the legend of Daedalus and Icarus. For defying human and natural law, Daedalus and his only son Icarus were imprisoned on top of the tallest tower in the kingdom, where they were doomed to remain for the rest of their lives. Yearning to escape that fate, Daedalus constructed two pairs of wings from feathers and wax, and having warned Icarus to keep a moderate distance from both the ocean and the sun or they would surely perish, father and son leaped into the air and took to the winds, free at last. However, having become intoxicated by the ecstasy of flight, Icarus ignored Daedalus’ warning and soared higher and higher, until the heat of the sun melted his wings and he plummeted to the ocean, where he drowned.

In his hubris, Icarus had merely tempted the sun, and what did Yuri do? He met the sun after work, went on a date with it, and after a modest dinner of fried rice and two drinks, he took the sun to bed, straddled it face to face in nothing but an unbuttoned silk shirt, and fucked it.

“Hey.. you okay?” Kotetsu stared at him in alarm. “Did I do that..?”

_“Yuri…!”_

* * *

It all began ten months ago, when veteran Hero Wild Tiger returned from temporary retirement as a member of the Second League, and by putting his fading powers on valiant display for the sake of following his code of justice, he surpassed Legend in a way radically different from Barnaby Brooks Jr.’s groundbreaking record. Until that moment, Yuri’s fascination with Kaburagi Kotetsu did not reach beyond their occasional clashes as Lunatic and Wild Tiger, or his decision as the Administrator of the Heroes to preside over each and every one of Kotetsu’s legal cases. (He was the only one qualified to be the arbitrator, Yuri had told himself; nobody else would have been able to judge Wild Tiger’s actions as fairly and accurately as he.) However, once Kotetsu humbly acknowledged the decline of his powers and resumed his career with pride and enthusiasm, Yuri found himself falling head over heels in a conundrum. With the introduction of the Second League, emergencies were divided into major and minor crimes, and murder obviously belonged in the former category, which meant that Wild Tiger would no longer be dispatched to obstruct Lunatic’s justice; and since he could only incur so much property damage during a regular chase, Apollon Media decided to curb its legal expenses by settling minor incidents outside of court, so what was a dedicated man like Yuri Petrov to do?

Drawn to the other like Icarus to the sun, or a moth to a flame (ironic, all things considered), Yuri arrived at the only logical conclusion, reached after a long string of sleepless nights. He had to become involved with Kaburagi Kotetsu in a different way, and infiltrate his personal life.

In such pursuits, Yuri had no experience, and a million misgivings to contend with. The only meaningful relationships he had ever had came to an abrupt end at age fourteen, leaving him crippled in more ways than one; but even suppose his history had been spotless, Yuri still couldn’t turn a blind eye to how inappropriate it was for the Administrator of the Heroes to engage someone under his professional care, and risk compromising his own judgment. Nevertheless, the moment Yuri accepted he had no choice in the matter, he crushed his own scruples with cold, calculating logic. Lunatic hunted down and executed sinners in order to prove that all he had ever strived for was the punishment of evil, and Yuri Petrov seduced Kaburagi Kotetsu in his office one late spring evening because he desperately wanted to believe he had deserved better than his face branded and his mother broken beyond repair. He once asked Wild Tiger in court if he would accept any sentence handed down to him, and was met with absolute conviction in the fairness of his judgment; now the time had come for Yuri to test his own faith, and submit to Kotetsu with equal grace.

Having acknowledged the dangerous nature of his long term venture, Yuri proceeded with the utmost caution. As soon as Kotetsu agreed to his initial conditions and set foot inside Yuri’s personal space, he found himself in a meticulously constructed maze of rules and boundaries. The corridors were tight and narrow, stretching endlessly around the secrets hidden at the core; navigating them required patience and flexibility, but somehow, Kotetsu took it all in stride. Though he could sometimes use a polite reminder or a rebuff, he instinctively understood when apologies were due and retreat was not just preferable, but necessary to keep the peace.

Yuri’s rules were simple enough. Kotetsu was not allowed to enter the bathroom while Yuri was inside; if Yuri couldn’t come or stay for any reason, Kotetsu didn’t pressure him or demand an explanation; and last but not least, he was forbidden to touch Yuri’s face. Kotetsu was allowed, even encouraged to play with his hair, and the occasional chaste peck on the lips was welcome, but anything that threatened to ruin Yuri’s complexion was out of the question, and if Kotetsu’s hands strayed too close for comfort, Yuri caught them and redirected them with a curt smile.

(More often than not, they wound up in his hair and teased him. _Ridiculous._ )

Kind and considerate as Kotetsu could be, Yuri should have expected he would eventually tear down the maze in true Wild Tiger fashion: in a passionate fit of well-meaning clumsiness. Two weeks ago, when Yuri managed to strain his neck in an effort to stop himself from face planting into the pillow with every thrust of Kotetsu’s hips, the culprit suggested they try a different position next time, one that allowed Yuri to move as he pleased, and Kotetsu to see the glow of his flushed face. Having spent a week in a soft neck brace, Yuri saw merit in the idea, and being taller than Kotetsu, he took it for granted that the other would not be able to reach higher than his throat with Yuri straddling his lap, so what could possibly go wrong?

It felt so good, _so good._ Kotetsu was all hands, grasping, kneading, anchoring him as Yuri’s legs hugged his sides, one hand clinging to the back of Kotetsu’s neck and the other planted behind himself, clawing at the sheets. With each roll of his hips, Yuri arched backwards just a little more, heat pooling in his core with every buck of Kotetsu’s hips. His head lolled, hair unbound, wisps of light swimming in his vision. When he closed his eyes, they burst into sparks.

That drop of darkness was all it took to lose himself. The bed, the room, the house, all of Sternbild, _everything_ vanished except Kotetsu, and now he was _everywhere._ He throbbed inside Yuri like a second heart; his low growls rumbled in his ears; the slightest touch of his hands could have lit up Yuri like fairy lights but he was _gripping_ him, _so close, oh god—!_

Kotetsu jolted against him, hard and _deep,_ and that dark world bubbled over and rolled off its hinges. Yuri’s legs buckled and he plunged with it, his heart in his throat and heat spilling over him in waves, but those hands caught him and snatched him up before he might have tumbled off the bed. He collapsed into Kotetsu’s lap like a ragdoll, nothing but a tangle of limbs and tremors, his head cradled and squeezed in the palms of those strong, wonderful hands, those hands and that _mouth…_

…all over his _face…_

“Oi, Yuri..! Earth to Yuri! _Oi!”_ Kotetsu’s voice jerked him back into reality, where he now huddled in Kotetsu’s lap in nothing but a rumpled silk shirt and the wet mess they had made of themselves.

“Your face got all dark… did I squeeze you too hard?” Kotetsu withdrew his hand in disbelief, and froze when he saw his palm caked with a mixture of concealer and foundation. Yuri brought a trembling hand to his cheek. Instead of velvet, the tips of his fingers traced leather.

“Yuri…” Kotetsu grew pale. “I, uh—”

“I told you never to touch my face,” Yuri hissed out the words, _“so how could you do this to me?”_

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Kotetsu threw up his hands. “I tried to pull you up and you almost headbutted me so I grabbed you and the rest just kinda happened! I wasn’t thinking about it!”

 _Neither was I,_ Yuri gritted his teeth. _And now he knows.._ **_damn it…!_ **

“I’m _leaving,”_ he planted his knees to push himself away, only for Kotetsu to grab his arms and pull him back with greater ease than Yuri would have liked. He blamed his wobbling legs. The bastard had turned them into jello…

“Yuri!”

 _“Let go of me!”_ Yuri grabbed his wrists and wrenched them, but Kotetsu endured it.

“Stay for five minutes. Just five minutes! I’m begging you!”

“You have _one_ minute,” Yuri sneered at him. If Kotetsu had caught the jab, he ignored it for now.

“I’m sorry. _I’m sorry,”_ he gave Yuri’s arms a tender squeeze. “Fi— I mean, a friend of mine’s obsessed with makeup, so I thought you were like them, but I was wrong. I should have realized it was more than that… I’m sorry.”

Yuri stared at him dumbfounded. Kotetsu wilted.

“Man, I feel kinda bad now,” he let go with one hand to scratch the back of his head with a low, pained laugh. “What kind of boyfriend am I that I didn’t notice..?”

“What would be the point of hiding it if you could notice?” asked Yuri. His words gave Kotetsu an odd sense of déja vu.

“Look, I’m sorry I did that, but whatever you’ve got under there, you don’t have to hide it from me,” his hand slipped back and settled on Yuri’s shoulder. “It’s just some sort of burn, right? That’s nothing to be ashamed of! These things can happen!”

Shivers ran down Yuri’s spine. Kotetsu sought his eyes, but Yuri couldn’t bear to look at him.

“I need to use the bathroom,” he twitched to the left, towards safety. Kotetsu released him.

“Hey… Come back when you’re done, okay?”

Yuri didn’t reply. He staggered out of bed, shambled down the stairs, and in the privacy of Kotetsu’s bathroom, he slammed the toilet lid shut and sank down with his marred face buried in his hands. Could he have stopped Kotetsu? With reflexes honed through Lunatic, he could have, _should have,_ but instead he relinquished all control at the apex of his orgasm and prayed his high endurance makeup would live up to its label.

Which, of course, it didn’t. Like everything else, it was no match for the uncrowned king of property damage.

* * *

When Yuri could at last will himself to move, he wiped off his face, showered, washed his hair, and with no better options, he wrapped a _Kaburagi Wine & Spirits _ towel around his hips. He steeled himself and turned to the mirror, where his father’s handprint glared back at him like a warning sign carved in flesh. **DANGER. STOP. DO NOT PROCEED PAST THIS POINT.**

Shame and fear swirled in the pit of Yuri’s stomach, an oceanic cesspool threatening to erupt. He sank to his knees, opened his briefcase, and dug out his makeup case, but the sight of all that plaster brought no comfort this time. Yuri bit his lip. Was this not what he had wanted, what he had signed up for? He told himself so many times he would submit himself to Kotetsu’s judgment (as Yuri Petrov and Yuri Petrov only), so what was he thinking, trying to sweep catalogued evidence under the rug while Kotetsu wasn’t looking? What was his hasty retreat and his scavenging for concealer if not an obstruction of justice?

_These things can happen!_

_“Accidents can happen, but that was no accident, was it,”_ his father mocked him in spirit. Yuri pressed a clammy hand to his face.

When the bathroom stopped spinning, he packed his cosmetics away, closed his briefcase, and returned to the mirror, forcing himself to watch as he tousled his hair and combed his fringe over his right cheek. The razed patches on his forehead and nose now peeked out past that veil of hair like a villain hiding behind the curtain.

_Hideous. Disgusting._

_He will never look at you the same way again._

A sense of fatalistic calm filled Yuri as he twined a thin lock over the left side of his forehead for embellishment, took a deep breath, and reached for the door.

* * *

Looking at the balcony, he noted Kotetsu had since turned off the lights - thank god, whichever it was, for small favors. Yuri inhaled, exhaled, and ascended the stairs one measured step at a time, drenched in cold sweat and moonlight. In the corner, Kotetsu lay on fresh sheets in clean boxers, staring at the ceiling. The knot in Yuri’s stomach loosened as he snuck over to the bed, curled onto his right side, and buried his cheek in the pillow.

Only once Yuri had stopped moving did Kotetsu turn to him. The way his brow creased in concern told Yuri he was looking at his forehead.

“I told you, you don’t have to hide it,” said Kotetsu, his tone unbearably tender. “You’ve seen me, I’ve got a whole collection of scars! Here, _look,_ look at this,” he sat up and leaned over to show off his right shoulder, “I’ve got a burn too, see?”

 _I know that! I was the one who gave it to you,_ Yuri set his jaws. Of all his sins, great and small, he had at least atoned for _that._

“I never even thought about hiding these from you, so you don’t have to hide yours from me…” mused Kotetsu.

“That’s different,” Yuri’s eyes flashed in helpless anger. “Yours are in places where your clothes will hide them for you. You could put yourself on public display at any time and no one would ever know.”

“That’s true… but not always,” Kotetsu straightened and leaned against the headboard.

“You wanna hear something funny?” he stole a glance at Yuri. Having secured his attention, Kotetsu tucked his hands behind his head with a smile.

“One time when Bunny and I got real busy, Mr. Lloyds had to schedule a swimsuit photo shoot and an interview at the same time. When we arrived and took our clothes off, the uh, the art director? He immediately gave Bunny a bunch of speedos to try on, and then he took one look at my scars and gave me a wetsuit with sleeves..!” he laughed though his final words.

Pale though he was, Yuri flushed at the thought that even back then, and now more than ever, he would have preferred it the other way round. Did he still have that magazine? It should be in his cabinet, somewhere…

“He was so rude, that guy,” Kotetsu was still laughing. “He was like, _we’re gonna need a longer wetsuit or this ain’t gonna sell at all!”_

His eyes fell to Yuri in anticipation of some clever remark, but the other remained silent. Kotetsu pushed himself away from the headboard, sliding down the sheets till he lay flat on his back. He paused, glanced over, and rolled to his side, facing Yuri.

“Do these bother you?” he cocked his head towards his burned shoulder.

“Not at all,” Yuri shook his head against the pillow.

“Then _that_ doesn’t bother me,” Kotetsu pointed to the dark prongs on Yuri’s forehead. “I get why you want to hide it in public. It’s annoying when people stare or talk behind your back. But you don’t have to hide it from me anymore.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Yuri.

“Hey…” Kotetsu tried for a smile. “Now that it’s out in the open, and you’ve got no makeup for me to smudge—”

 _“No,”_ blurted Yuri, his stomach roiling with nerves - or was it butterflies?

“I wasn’t even finished..!” whined Kotetsu. Yuri braced himself. “I was gonna say, do you wanna cuddle up? Right on top of me, cheek to cheek.”

Yuri averted his eyes. A moment later, so did Kotetsu.

“You need some space, huh?” he rolled onto his back. “Probably time, too. That’s okay. We’ve got all the time and space we need,” he closed his eyes. “Night, Yuri.”

“Good night, Kotetsu,” said Yuri, quiet, regretful.

Unable to sleep, he waited and waited, but Kotetsu didn’t move. At length, Yuri held his breath, shifted closer, and reached out to wave a careful hand over the other’s face. No response.

At least, none that he could see. As Yuri climbed on top of him, Kotetsu unscrewed one eye to see a waterfall of hair cascading down, but remained still while Yuri draped over him and tucked his head to Kotetsu’s shoulder, burn to burn. Kotetsu broke into a grin. He lifted his right hand to run his fingers through Yuri’s fringe, but before he might have touched his face, Yuri grabbed his hand and pinned it to the sheets. Their fingers laced together, tight enough to ache. Kotetsu endured this, too.

“Stay for breakfast. I’ll make you something nice,” he sank his free hand into Yuri’s mane, to stroke the back of his head until his grip and breathing softened.

* * *

Come dawn, Yuri woke up to a lump in his throat and dread coiling in his gut. He eased off a blissfully unconscious Kotetsu with his breath held and slipped away like a thief, never looking back as he gathered his clothes and hurried downstairs. Within the hour, he left the building like nothing had happened the night before, briefcase in hand, and his appearance immaculate as always.

He walked briskly to his car, left in a parking lot two blocks away, then sat in the driver’s seat for what felt like an eternity, his hands clenched over his knees.

All of this should have been mindless routine by now, cemented by over a decade of rigorous practice at home. No matter what Yuri had been doing the night before and how late he retired to bed, he would rise from his ashes no later than six thirty, and reconfigure himself into a functional human being before anyone might see the tired monster lurking beneath that liquid and powder facade. His morning ritual was the only time administrative paperwork, the execution of sinners, and sex with Kotetsu held equal weight: none of it, no matter how taxing or pleasurable could entice Yuri to slacken his pace and risk exposure.

Except he _had_ been exposed last night, but where his mother would have screamed at him and thrown the first object within reach at his head, Kotetsu told him it was fine, and held him all night to keep him from falling apart. If he had stayed, the man would have even made him breakfast like the soft-hearted fool he was, but Yuri had never accepted his offer before, nor did he ever plan to… so why did his chest feel so tight?

Too ashamed to run and too scared to stay, Yuri sat in the parking lot for a while longer, and when the scales tipped over to fear, he dug out his keys and started the car.

* * *

Six hours and several meetings later, Yuri returned to his office for lunch to find a blue bento on his desk, a post-it note taped to the lid.

_You forgot your breakfast!_

It was yesterday’s leftovers, hidden inside a pale yellow omelet smothered in ketchup.

Yuri never knew poignant metaphors could be so delicious.


	2. Hesitant and Scared

For the next three weeks, Yuri and Kotetsu circled each other on eggshells.

Some four hours after he had left his peace offering on Yuri’s desk, Kotetsu stopped by the Justice Bureau on his way from training, and was returned his clean and empty bento with little more than a reserved _thank you_ and _goodbye._ The next day, they passed each other in the hallway, but Kotetsu failed to notice Yuri’s subtle greeting in the middle of some pointless argument with Barnaby. (Upon returning to his office, Yuri promptly took Barnaby’s latest request for special training equipment and refiled it into his Low Priority folder.)

Three days passed in this manner, with countless opportunities wasted on stiff manners and bad timing, and just as Yuri had resigned himself to ending the stalemate from a safe distance, he found upon checking his email that Kotetsu had preceded him.

 **To:** Yuri Petrov

 **From:** Wild Tiger (Kaburagi T. Kotetsu)

**Subject:**

_To Administrator Petrov,_

_With reference to your previous disclosure on the subject of exterior design, I am writing to request a brief meeting with you at your earliest convenience to discuss current options and the possibility of a mutually beneficial resolution._

_Yours sincerely, Kaburagi T. Kotetsu_

Yuri rolled his eyes. Distance be damned, he could just _see_ Kotetsu glaring down the cheat sheet Yuri had given him to ensure a discreet means of communication during business hours, and hammering away at his message one cherry-picked word at a time, face scrunched up and his tongue peeking out. Yuri raked a twitchy hand through his hair.

“Your previous disclosure on the subject of _exterior design…”_ he read the worst part aloud, and flipped his fringe with a bittersweet frown. Kotetsu had certainly hit the nail on the head with that one.

Yuri breathed in, breathed out, and clicked _Reply._ Unlike Kotetsu, he didn’t need a cheat sheet.

 **To:** Wild Tiger (Kaburagi T. Kotetsu)

 **From:** Yuri Petrov

 **Subject:** RE:

_To Kaburagi T. Kotetsu,_

_I regret to inform you that my schedule does not allow for a meeting at this time. Thank you for understanding, and have a pleasant day._

_Yours sincerely, Yuri Petrov_

The next time they met, Kotetsu gave him a pitiful look for that one, but Yuri ignored it, and so their awkward dance of clumsy openings and polite rejections continued. Until…

 **Subject:** RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE:

_To Kaburagi T. Kotetsu,_

_With regard to your earlier request, I shall be available today after hours to discuss the matter. Meet me in the lobby of Justice Tower at 18:05._

_Yours sincerely, Yuri Petrov_

* * *

Kotetsu mustn’t get the wrong impression, though. Yuri didn’t miss him at all.

“A-Ah, Mr. Judge! _Mr. Judge,_ I’m here..!”

“Good evening, Mr. Kaburagi. This way, please.”

That cheap fashion, his nervous bumbling in public, _the itchy beard…_

 _“Hey,_ is that the tie I gave you?” Kotetsu turned to him with a grin as soon as they left Justice Tower and headed towards the designated Justice Bureau parking lot, his tone positively giddy. _Giddy._ “And you smell so fancy, too! You got all dolled up for me, didn’tcha?”

 _“Be quiet,”_ Yuri quickened his pace, smoldering.

* * *

Fried rice had never tasted so good as it did that night, perched on Kotetsu’s couch with the news on mellow static and the man himself pressed against Yuri’s side like a needy cat. Judging by Kotetsu’s high-pitched moaning, he burned his tongue on the first spoonful, but he washed it down with water and kept shoveling food into his mouth like his life depended on it.

Yuri stole a glance at Kotetsu as he blew on his next spoonful. Just how hard had he been training to work up an appetite like that?

“Did you double your regimen today?” he savored his sweet and sour shrimp.

“Tripled it!” Kotetsu chomped down on another spoonful, followed by the rest of his water. “You got me excited!”

 _Ridiculous,_ Yuri turned his head to hide a smile. “Who knew formal correspondence could be so stimulating?”

“Nah, typing in that stuff is a pain in the ass,” Kotetsu gave him a look. “Can’t you just get a private account? Or a personal phone? I wanna be able to talk and flirt with you like normal people do!”

“It’s inappropriate to flirt during business hours,” Yuri took a sip of his water. “And it would only distract me from my work.”

“Wouldn’t be able to take your mind off me?” Kotetsu wagged his brow. Yuri returned his gaze and sucked on his next spoonful. Kotetsu’s grin widened.

 _“I missed you,”_ he rubbed an eager hand over Yuri’s thigh. “Did you miss me..?”

“Your absence was noted,” Yuri replied without missing a beat. He half expected Kotetsu to pout, but the other snorted and burst into laughter that sent Yuri’s heart fluttering. Kotetsu’s hand lingered in the cozy silence that followed, caressing up and down the length of Yuri’s thigh while he finished his plate, his knees pressed together not to give himself away so soon.

“Thank you for the meal,” he set down his spoon and passed his plate to the cook.

“Don’t thank me just yet! I got you dessert, too,” Kotetsu took it with a grin. He retired to the kitchen, and in another minute, he returned with a hand of bananas, two empty plates, and a fork and knife. He handed a plate and the utensils to his date, broke off two bananas and offered one to Yuri, who peeled his completely and cut it into slices, to be daintily skewered by his fork. Kotetsu peeled his banana halfway and bit down, finishing two more in the time Yuri had prepared and eaten his.

At length, Yuri’s plate joined Kotetsu’s on the table, one peel against his pile of three. Kotetsu turned to him with triumphant looks.

 _“Well?”_ he jutted his chin at Yuri, lips pursed in expectation of a sweet reward. Yuri leaned over and gave him an appreciative peck. Kotetsu’s features smoothed out as he nudged back, the contrast so stark it should have been illegal.

“Wanna go upstairs..?” his voice dipped lower too, warm and heavy. Yuri swallowed.

“That sounds dangerous,” he managed to say, calmer than he felt. Kotetsu didn’t deny it, and because of that, Yuri took his hand and followed him with a smile on his face.

* * *

Two hook and eye clasp neckties were torn that night, one in rough playfulness and the other in sweet revenge. Neither were missed. They scratched and tugged off everything else and tumbled into bed, where spooning Yuri quickly turned into fucking him sideways.

* * *

 _“Man…”_ Kotetsu buried his face in the nape of Yuri’s neck as they unwound, still naked and cuddled up like they had been for the past hour. “That hit the spot…”

 _“Which one,”_ quipped Yuri, his smile growing as Kotetsu rumbled against him in drowsy laughter.

“You felt so good…” he nursed Yuri’s skin. “Too bad I couldn’t see your face all red..!”

Yuri cringed. Kotetsu did too, when his faux pas finally dawned on him.

“I mean— That’s not—”

“That’s not what you meant. _I know,”_ Yuri cut him off, his tone cold.

 _“Yuri…”_ Kotetsu wrapped around him in a hug, but Yuri reached for the nearest pillow and made a show of stuffing it under his head to sleep. Kotetsu paused in thought. “Wait a minute, don’t _I_ get a pillow? I need a pillow too, you know!”

 _“Good night,_ Kotetsu,” came the dismissive reply.

“Night…” Kotetsu dropped his head in defeat, too ashamed to argue any further.

They lay in strained silence for a while, and just when Yuri thought Kotetsu had fallen asleep, the other had gathered the courage to speak again.

“Hey…” he gave Yuri’s side a gentle rub. “Can I ask you something?”

Yuri hesitated.

“I’m sure I’ll regret saying this, but go ahead,” he said at last, his voice as hollow as his chest.

“How did you get it? That scar.”

Yuri’s breath caught in his throat. He had anticipated it, long before fate forced his and Kotetsu’s hands; he had even practiced his confession in his lonely hours, for it was long, unbearably long and winding, but that carefully fitted mosaic cracked and fell apart in this new, alien frame.

 _How did you get it?_ Kotetsu’s words echoed in his mind. _I don’t understand. Don’t you mean,_

_What have you done?_

_Who is to blame?_

**_What have you done, you horrible demon?!_ **

“Someone gave it to me,” whispered Yuri, his heart jolting as Kotetsu hissed and stirred behind him like an agitated serpent. The hand on Yuri’s side scrambled to his arm and gripped it. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kotetsu towering above him, pale and fierce.

 **_“Who?!”_ ** he demanded, his voice choked. _“When?! How?!_ **_And why?!”_ **

_My father,_

_When I was younger,_

_With his own hand,_

_Because…_

“You ask too many questions,” Yuri forced out the words. Kotetsu stared at him thunderstruck. Yuri looked away. “Kotetsu, you’re hurting me.”

Kotetsu remembered his hand and flinched.

“Sorry…” he softened his grip and released Yuri’s arm, his anger evaporating into confusion and embarrassment. He lowered himself onto the sheets and drew Yuri into his embrace again, so close, his heart hammered between Yuri’s shoulder blades.

“It was a long time ago,” Yuri found himself saying, as if that could soften the blow. “I was fourteen.”

 **_“Seriously?!”_ ** Kotetsu blurted in his ear. He clenched his jaws for fear he was going to scream, but the urge drained from him in an instant.

 _“Kaede’s_ about that age,” he whispered in horror, and his arms wound around Yuri even tighter. _Protective,_ Yuri supposed. He was being protective, when there was nothing he could do anymore.

“Hey…” Kotetsu uncurled one arm to rub a hand over over the reddish mark he had left on Yuri’s skin. “I used to think it was the makeup, but this is why you didn’t want me to touch your face, isn’t it? Because someone else did, and it hurt.”

“You ask too many questions,” Yuri repeated himself, his voice small.

“I’m sorry.”

“You say that, but what are you sorry for?” Yuri turned to him, eyes narrowed. “Is it your prying, or is it me? Because if you _pity me—”_

“That’s not it,” Kotetsu shook his head. “I’m.. I’m just sorry that of all the things I could ask you, of all the things I _wanna_ ask you, this is all I can think about. And even when you answer me, I just can’t stop. I’m sorry.”

Unsure what to tell him, Yuri dropped his head back onto the pillow. Kotetsu gave his arm a tender squeeze.

“Hey…”

“You apologize for prying and _you still won’t stop?”_ Yuri whipped his head around to shoot him a glare.

“I would never hurt you,” said Kotetsu, plain and somber. “You know that, right?”

Yuri stared at him wide-eyed. His hand sought Kotetsu’s and closed over it.

“I know.”

* * *

That’s right. Kotetsu would never hurt him.

 _He wouldn’t hurt Yuri Petrov, anyway,_ Yuri told himself as his eyes flitted to the ceiling, to watch the vibrant stutter of city lights through the blinds. _He wouldn’t hurt the ones he cares for._ And though Kotetsu did not know it (had never asked, had probably never thought to ask), Yuri Petrov wouldn’t hurt him either; not anymore. Once was enough. Just once was enough, for everyone _he_ had ever cared for. As for Wild Tiger, well, it was a good thing he had proven extremely durable. With a bit of luck, he might last a lifetime, and once they had both retired, they might…

He was startled out of his reverie by a single chime of the pendulum wall clock downstairs, for the third time in a row. Yuri heaved a sigh. After a torturously long day of multiple court hearings, a mountain of tedious administrative paperwork, a dinner date, and two orgasms, the last thing he had expected to do at one thirty in the morning was soliloquize about Kaburagi Kotetsu while the man himself was snoring in his ear, one leg propped over Yuri’s thigh and his arm draped over him like he hadn’t a care in the world. _Honestly…_

Yuri stole a glance at him, took a deep breath, and held it as he pulled his leg free and shifted onto his back. Kotetsu tensed - Yuri’s heart skipped a beat -, but his breathing softened when his armrest moved no further, and his right hand drifted to Yuri’s chest, to settle above his heart.

Pure, life-affirming heat radiated from his palm. _Solar hands,_ Kotetsu once called them, the delight of bakers everywhere. Not that Kotetsu had ever mixed flour or kneaded bread dough; his hands had been self-trained in combat, unwittingly majored in demolition, and learned how to soothe and give pleasure in his leisure time. (Having been on the receiving end both ways, Yuri preferred his slick fingers to his sweeping fists.)

His eyes fell to his own hands, one folded over his stomach and the other fidgeting on the sheets. They were cold and thoroughly tamed, the slightest movements deliberate and calculated; they glided over keyboards and dotted lines in an elaborate dance, clasped the gavel with pride and conviction, orchestrated minor miracles at the Justice Bureau, and sometimes trembled when Kotetsu grabbed and squeezed them.

His left hand slipped to Kotetsu’s right and gathered his digits. He rubbed them, bent them, coaxed them apart, but they remained lax.

_This is why you didn’t want me to touch your face, isn’t it?_

His right hand wiggled free from the cramped space between them and fumbled its way to Kotetsu’s wrist, to run his fingers over hard joints. Like the rest of him, they lay dormant. Unimposing. Unthreatening.

_Because someone else did, and it hurt._

Yuri steeled himself, lifted Kotetsu’s hand from his chest, and pressed it over his face.

Darkness fell, hot and heavy, then bright greens and blues seeped into Yuri’s vision from the darkest recesses of his mind, like a strip of old film being consumed by fire.

Whimpers clogged his ears. His mother’s.

And his throat.

Those were his.

Whimpers, voices, his, hers, _His._

_Just what do you think you’re doing…_

**_…YOU FUCKING BRAT!_ **

Yuri’s heart jolted and stopped as vacuum filled his chest and swallowed his heartbeat. His last gulp of air sloshed in the void like water flooding a sealed chamber, rising higher and higher with no means of escape as that burning palm smothered his nose and the corner of his mouth. Visceral terror surged through the dulled nerves of his right cheek and tugged them raw. Unbearable heat poured through the crevices and he felt himself peeling, oozing, _melting,_ **_he was melting…_ **

Yuri’s hands clenched over _His_ hand like claws, tearing at the joints and wrenching the wrist until he heard a pained grunt: Kotetsu wincing awake from a nightmare he would have never wished to be a part of.

Realization struck Yuri in a burst a cold sweat. Gasping for air after what seemed like an eternity, he had just enough presence of mind to drag Kotetsu’s hand off his face and back onto his heaving chest, where it had been innocently resting before his shameful, ridiculous experiment. He gave it a shaky pat as though he were smoothing out the folds of a creased shirt, and felt something damp and viscous coat his fingers. Blood. In his struggle, his nails had drawn blood.

“Ugh… Yuri..?” Kotetsu raised his head with a sleepy squint. His hand budged and he drew it back with a stuttering hiss, to stare in shock at a cluster of weeping crescents across his skin. “W-What the…”

Yuri opened his mouth, but air rushed in and stale air flushed out without a sound. He could only watch, eyes glassy, as Kotetsu looked at him, paused in recognition, and turned his hand over to stare at the sickly beige smear on his palm.

 _“What did I do?”_ he whispered in growing horror. “Did I—?”

“You didn’t do anything,” Yuri forced himself to speak, his heart still thrashing. “I did it. All of it.”

“What? _Why?”_

“I don’t know what came over me… I’m sorry.”

Kotetsu didn’t reply. His eyes fell to his hand as he turned it over again, to find thin streaks of blood had run down the back of his hand to his wrist and beyond. The way his brow furrowed and his mouth twisted made Yuri’s chest clench like a fist.

 _“I’m sorry,”_ he whispered, his fingers tucked inward to hide his reddened nails. Kotetsu sighed.

“Come on, Yuri,” he said at last and pushed himself up, clambering past Yuri’s legs and off the bed. “Come on, get up.”

“Why?” blurted Yuri, still on his back and struggling to breathe.

“We’re going to the bathroom,” Kotetsu reached out his injured hand for Yuri out of habit. “You need to wash your face, and I gotta patch this up.”

Yuri lowered his eyes. An eerily familiar sensation came over him as he let Kotetsu pull him to his feet and they left for the bathroom hand in hand, naked and shivering in the dark. They descended the stairs, braving the neon glare of the city; they crossed a floor too hard and cold for tired feet, and came to an awkward halt in front of the bathroom door, hesitant to tear down yet another wall in a maze littered with debris.

They turned to each other for guidance, but silence had settled between them, thick and impenetrable. Yuri’s eyes fell to their hands still clasped together. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, resigned to atone for breaking the promise he had made to himself so soon, but before he could say it, Kotetsu gave his hand a squeeze and released him. He opened the door with a nod, calm and content to wait where he was, and for that Yuri grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside, to wash and bandage his hand with trembling fingers.

* * *

Neither said a word while Yuri tended to Kotetsu’s scratches, or when he finally lifted his eyes to the mirror and winced at his reflection. A large daub of paint had been wiped away in the aftermath; Yuri had suspected as much when he first turned Kotetsu’s hand over in the light and spent some minutes rubbing grime off his palm, but he did not expect the streaks running down his face like sodden strips of wallpaper clinging to a decaying wall. Had he been crying? Or was it just sweat? Yuri didn’t know, nor did he want to.

He turned the water on again and buried his face in the pool brimming between his palms, scouring his skin until all slickness faded and his hands brushed over coarse, shriveled tissue. He toweled off and risked another glance at the mirror. Reddish spots bloomed on his left cheek, clogged pores that had been screaming for air while he was growing equally short of it. Yuri thought he had gotten used to the sight in the past few months, and in a way, he had, but the idea of Kotetsu watching him brought those blemishes into painful relief.

He sank his fingers into his fringe and combed it over his right cheek, wringing his locks until Kotetsu touched his shoulder and sent his erratic heartbeat thrumming. Yuri turned his head a notch. Kotetsu tried for a smile.

“Are you feeling better?” he gave Yuri’s shoulder a friendly tap.

“I’m.. I’ve calmed down, yes,” Yuri dropped his hands and clasped them in front of his navel. “Kotetsu… I want to apologize. I don’t know what possessed me, but I promise it won’t happen again. _No.._ I won’t do it again.”

“Are you sure you don’t know?” Kotetsu’s smile thinned out. “Or that it’s over?”

Yuri tensed.

“What are you trying to say?” he forced himself to look Kotetsu in the eye.

“I’m just wondering,” Kotetsu’s brow creased. “Are you saying you won’t do it again because it ended up hurting me, or because it ended up hurting you?”

Yuri stared at him dumbstruck. Kotetsu sighed.

“Sometimes, facing your fears is a good thing,” his eyes fell to the sink. “When it’s something you have to overcome so you can move on with your life, like a fear of heights in a place like Sternbild, or a bad experience with something you’re passionate about, you gotta be brave and meet it head on. But what was done to you should have never happened to anyone, Yuri. Being hurt like that isn’t a bad experience, it’s a living nightmare.”

Yuri forced his features calm, but the sharp rise and fall of his chest betrayed him. Kotetsu rubbed a hand over his back.

“You don’t have to try and relive that nightmare,” he carried on. “I’m sure it haunts you often enough, and dulling yourself to what you felt back then won’t make you stronger, it can only wear you down. Sometimes, the only way to beat a bad memory is to make better ones.”

“Make better memories..?” Yuri echoed him, confused. Kotetsu broke into a grin.

“I’ll show you,” he leaned closer, lips pursed, and just as Yuri lowered his head to kiss him, Kotetsu cupped his scarred jaw and pressed his mouth to Yuri’s left cheek, tender and warm. Kotetsu nuzzled and nursed his skin, savoring the moment he had been dreaming about for months, and when it passed, he eased away with a soft caress of Yuri’s right cheek.

“Like that.” He drew back and added, “You think we could give this a try?”

Yuri couldn’t say. Once his initial shock wore off, blood rushed to his head in waves, coloring him crimson from his neck to the tips of his ears. He touched a quivering hand to the spot Kotetsu had kissed, awe and disbelief on his face. Kotetsu snorted.

“Yuri, you’re _blushing?_ You’re kidding me!” he teased as Yuri turned his head in a futile attempt to hide his flustration. “We had _sex_ last night and this is what makes you blush?”

“S-Sex is a standard procedure,” mumbled Yuri. “Touching the face is, more personal…”

“More personal than _sex?_ What do you take me for, Yuri?” blurted Kotetsu, but his indignation quickly petered into baffled laughter. The way he wheezed and slapped a hand over his reddened face loosened Yuri’s shoulders by degrees, till he found himself tittering helplessly at a joke neither of them understood.

Kotetsu was still gasping for air when he grabbed Yuri’s right shoulder and pulled him into a half hug, their eyes meeting in the mirror.

“You’ve got.. a funny way of thinking, Yuri…” he breathed, his cheeks aching with mirth, “but.. that’s why I love you.”

Yuri stared at him tongue-tied as butterflies stirred in his belly by the handful. Kotetsu hugged him closer.

“Let’s go back to bed, huh,” he nodded to the door, and Yuri followed him without a sound.

* * *

After dragging their feet the whole way down, the journey back felt like walking on clouds. Neon lights winked at them gleefully as Kotetsu climbed into bed and Yuri joined him, to lie flat on their backs with their limbs every which way and Yuri’s hair mercifully screening his scars.

“Kotetsu…” he whispered, eyes on the ceiling. The other hummed. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Kotetsu gathered Yuri’s hand in his.

“Earlier, when you told me to get up, I thought you were going to send me home,” Yuri’s fingers tightened in his hold. Kotetsu pressed back.

“I couldn’t do that,” he said quietly. “Not when you looked like that…”

“Like what?” Yuri tensed.

 _“Scared,”_ replied Kotetsu. He rolled his head over with a squint. “You thought I was gonna say something mean?”

“No…” Yuri shook his head, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “Not you.” He could feel some of that bitterness fade as he added, “You’re uncommonly kind to me.”

“Well, boyfriends are supposed to be like that,” Kotetsu rubbed small circles over Yuri’s hand with his thumb. Yuri gave a tentative hum. Kotetsu tried and failed to smother a yawn.

“You ready to go back to sleep..?” he mumbled through another one.

“I suppose…”

“You suppose, huh.. Are you worried you’ll have nightmares?”

Yuri didn’t reply. Kotetsu patted his hand.

“It’s okay, Yuri. Just remember that I’m right here, and I’ll chase your nightmares away for you.”

“Can you really do that?” Yuri turned his head to look at him. Kotetsu’s expression clouded for a moment _(the scars, of course it was the scars),_ but the smile on his face seemed genuine as he propped himself on his elbows and turned towards the window. He grabbed something from the window sill - Yuri heard a clack -, and after a bit of fiddling, Kotetsu shifted to face Yuri with his eye mask on.

“Wild Tiger, at your service,” he announced himself with a grin. Yuri bit the inside of his lip, tingling all over.

 _“Stop,”_ he managed to say when the urge to laugh had worn off, though the corners of his lips had curled up and refused to budge. “Or are you going to become a one-minute man in bed, too?”

 _“Hey,_ I last way longer than a minute!” Kotetsu looked positively offended. Yuri gave in and tittered. Kotetsu’s grin returned.

“You like teasing me, don’tcha.”

“So tease me back,” Yuri smirked at him. “Or is your big mouth just for show, _Wild Tiger.”_

 _“Ohhh,_ you’ve done it now,” Kotetsu lowered his head and pressed his lips below Yuri’s chin, hungry and wet. The apple of Yuri’s throat bobbed under his tongue.

“How’s that for teasing you?” murmured Kotetsu, his hot breath tickling Yuri’s skin.

 _“Deadly,”_ sighed Yuri. “If you keep going, you’ll be the end of me…”

“That’s no good, then,” Kotetsu scoffed in amusement, and kissed the underside of Yuri’s chin. “I want you to live. And…” he flopped onto his back and removed his mask, “I want you to get some rest. You’ve got work tomorrow, right?”

“Right…” replied Yuri, his tone suddenly sober.

“Can’t we have a weekend date sometime, Yuri?” grumbled Kotetsu as he tossed his mask back onto the window sill. “I know there’s rules, and uh.. terms and conditions and all, but I hate waking up to an empty bed all the time.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yuri laced his fingers over his chest and closed his eyes. “Your bed isn’t built for two, so sleeping together is hardly comfortable in the first place, and besides, you tend to reclaim the entire bed as soon as I set one foot out of it. I wouldn’t call that empty.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Kotetsu frowned. A few seconds passed without further comment. Kotetsu pursed his lips. “So… can we have a weekend date, then? How about it? Yuri.. _Yuri…_ Oi, _Yuri—”_

“Your request has been noted, and will be discussed at another time,” Yuri kept his eyes firmly shut.

 _“Could you specify a date for that?”_ Kotetsu’s tone dripped with mock politeness. Yuri’s eyebrow twitched.

“Your request has been postponed indefinitely. _Good night,_ Kotetsu.”

 _“Niiight,”_ Kotetsu crammed a pillow under his head. “You know, for an administrator, you’re not being very helpful…” he quipped under his breath, then yelped as Yuri jammed an icy foot against his ankle.

* * *

_Oh tetsu…_

He felt something wrap around his shoulder.

_Kotetsu…_

Something thin and hard, like claws.

_“Wake up…”_

A nudge, then another, followed by a sigh.

“Paging _Wild Tiger…”_

Kotetsu stirred with a grunt and unscrewed one eye, squinting at his blurry surroundings until the fog of sleep lifted and he saw Yuri Petrov towering above him, as crisp and polished in his lavender suit and makeup as a cardboard cutout.

“Of course that got your attention,” Yuri gave his shoulder a tap, his tone dry but amused.

“Mmm… Yuri..?” Kotetsu raised his head to check the digital clock on his nightstand. The display clicked to 6:01 am, two hours too early for his usual alarm. “Something wrong..?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” Yuri withdrew his hand. “I’m simply complying with your wishes.”

Kotetsu stared at him blankly. Yuri rolled his eyes.

“From what you’ve said to me last night, I understood that you disliked waking up alone after a date, correct? Well, today you didn’t wake up alone, so, problem solved. You’re welcome,” he lowered himself to give Kotetsu a token peck on the forehead. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I have some errands to complete,” Yuri straightened with a cordial smile, but as he turned to leave, Kotetsu grabbed his wrist.

 _“Wait,_ Yuri…”

“What is it _now,_ Kotetsu?” Yuri shot him a look half incredulous, half exasperated. “Normally I would have left by this time, I’m a busy man in case you didn’t know, but I stayed just so you wouldn’t wake up alone. What more do you want from me?”

“I thought you were joking, but you really don’t get it, do you?” Kotetsu stared him down. “I don’t just wanna wake up to you a minute before you leave, Yuri. I wanna wake up to my boyfriend lying next to me! I wanna hold you in my arms and kiss you, and fool around in bed, and have breakfast together. You know, _like couples do!”_

“I’ve noticed you use that word before, but we are _not_ boyfriends and we’re not a _couple,_ Kotetsu. We’re _lovers_ who are having an affair,” Yuri tugged at his arm in Kotetsu’s grasp, his stomach a tangle of nervous knots. “In our situation, we shouldn’t even be interacting outside of business hours, and yet we have a date almost every week, and we have dinner and sex when we do. Isn’t that enough.”

Kotetsu stared at him thunderstruck. He held onto Yuri’s wrist for a moment longer, more out of shock than persistence, then withdrew his hand as though it had lost its purpose.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last, quiet and subdued. “I guess I misunderstood.”

“There’s no need to apologize. It’s a fair mistake,” Yuri turned away, unable to look him in the eye anymore. He left for the stairs with measured steps, forcing himself to stop by the railing just long enough to lift a hand and say, “Have a good day, Kotetsu.”

“You too,” replied the other in a distant voice that made him feel miles away, and drew the knots in Yuri’s stomach even tighter.


	3. Wretched and Torn

There was, of course, a crucial reason for Yuri scheduling every single date on a weeknight from Monday through Thursday, and it was precisely to avoid the sort of unsightly nonsense Kotetsu was talking about. He had often invited Yuri to stay for breakfast (to indulge in more physical pleasure, no doubt), but no matter how Yuri looked at it, and he had tested several angles by now, there was nothing pleasant in waking up to an unconscious naked body crammed against his and slobbering on his shoulder.

The dregs of intercourse he had become accustomed to. For his own safety and comfort, he had to make allowances for a certain degree of mess, and with Kotetsu doing the clean up and post-coital showers being a thing, Yuri could be enticed to make a great deal more. But Kotetsu’s perverse fascination with wallowing in their debauchery in broad daylight, his insistence on relishing their stale sweat and their scars struck Yuri as utterly repulsive, as far from romance as it was from common decency…

“Mr. Petrov?”

“Y-Yes?” Yuri straightened in his seat, his expression carefully guarded. Eight CEOs stared at him expectantly from the other side of the round table, their haggard faces illuminated by a pillar of digital projections in the middle.

“You seem distracted, Mr. Petrov,” noted one of them. Yuri picked up his cup of coffee and syrup to draw a long sip, internally cursing Kotetsu for encroaching on his mind like the troublesome obstacle he had always been. To think Yuri had once worried he might lose track of the man, when Kotetsu had proven time and time again that his persistence knew no bounds—

_“Mr. Petrov.”_

Yuri set down his cup and cleared his throat.

“I apologize. Could you please reiterate?” he clasped his hands together, determined to banish Kotetsu from his thoughts for the present.

He succeeded more or less, and to his relief, the meeting ended on an acceptable note. After a brief exchange of protocol pleasantries, Yuri retired to his office and checked his email for the customary after-date message from Kotetsu, just another meaningless token of affection wrapped in formal correspondence _(Thank you for your assistance. I appreciate your support.)_ Since these messages were often identical and required no response, he would mark it read and leave it… at that…

_No New Messages_

Yuri’s brow creased. He looked at the clock - it was 10:32 am -, then clicked _Search_ and pulled up Kotetsu’s emails to compare the timestamps of previous messages. The vast majority of these thank you _(I love you)_ emails fell between nine and ten o’clock, Kotetsu’s usual office hours. Now it was a hair’s breadth closer to eleven, at which point the two-hour Apollon Media community event would commence.

Yuri pursed his lips and minimized the window, suddenly grateful for the administrative work generated by his nine o’clock meeting. He perused the minutes, filled out the appropriate forms, and made several phone calls, the last one stretching into his lunch hour. With a curt _Have a nice day,_ Yuri hung up and checked his email.

_No New Messages_

Perhaps it was the community event, or some other pressing obligation. _Perhaps._

Yuri’s eyes fell to the food delivery flyer he had placed on his desk between the last two calls to facilitate decision-making. He read it over again out of habit, returned it to its proper drawer, and left his office, to seek proper nourishment elsewhere.

Kotetsu was simply being petulant and childish, Yuri thought to himself as he started on his sweetened cottage cheese pirog, perched by the window of a bakery and café that just happened to offer a great view of the ongoing Apollon Media community event. The ability to divorce personal feelings from social transactions was a sign of maturity and intelligence. Kotetsu had obviously never learned how to rein in his emotions, and while his sentimentality and idealism suited him as a Hero, someone like Yuri Petrov whose responsibilities were far greater than anyone could ever hope to comprehend could not afford to compromise himself over something as trivial as feelings. To insist on maintaining a relationship with no emotional strings attached was to approach the issue in a rational, adultlike manner. Therefore, deliberately seeking emotional codependency with a sexual partner was immature and foolish.

Surely Kotetsu was sensible enough to understand that, Yuri told himself on the way back to his office, alone and unnoticed by anyone.

_No New Messages_

It was safer to maintain his distance. To keep Kotetsu close, but not too close, for Yuri’s sake as well as his. After all, they were too old to pursue a clandestine romance, and by the time they would be released from their legal shackles, they would have grown older still. It was a useless effort, and besides, Yuri valued his independence and privacy above everything else. Solitude had always been his greatest refuge.

_No New Messages_

So why did the silence bother him now?

_No New Messages_

_No New Messages_

_No New Messages_

* * *

**Earlier that day…**

**To:** Yuri Petrov

 **From:** Wild Tiger (Kaburagi T. Kotetsu)

**Subject:**

_To Administrator Petrov,_

_With reference to our discussion yesterday, I am writing to request clarification on|_

Kotetsu stared at the blinking cursor like it was a miniature wall blocking his path. He frowned and hit _Backspace._

_With reference to our discussion yesterday, I am writing to|_

“Kotetsu-san?”

“Eh?” Kotetsu minimized the window and swiveled to the right to face Barnaby. “What is it, Bunny? Something wrong?”

“That’s what I was about to ask you,” Barnaby quirked a brow. “You’re usually more cheerful around this time. Did something happen?”

Kotetsu colored as Barnaby’s meaning sank in. He stole a glance at the accounting manager seated opposite them. She shrugged and returned to her paperwork.

“N-Nah, nothing happened,” Kotetsu scratched his head, his voice lowered in embarrassment. “Don’t worry about me.. I’ve just been thinking a lot…”

“That’s commendable, I suppose.”

 _“Haah?_ What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I am sorry,” Barnaby adjusted his glasses, his tone appropriately apologetic as he added, “What I should have said was, if you are troubled, and you need to confide in someone…”

“I get it,” Kotetsu cracked a tired smile. “Thanks, Bunny.”

With that, both turned back to their work stations, one to resume his research on current trends, and the other to discard the draft he had been composing on and off for the past half hour, and make himself more useful before the Apollon Media community event. Like every other Hero-related activity, it was greenlighted by Yuri, and though his endorsement had nothing to do with their current situation, Kotetsu thanked him in spirit for providing a distraction.

Two hours of community service later, Mr. Lloyds treated his star employees to a balanced and nutritious lunch, then drove them to Justice Tower for their daily training, where Kotetsu’s quiet hellos and lukewarm enthusiasm immediately caught Nathan’s attention.

“Where’s your burning passion from yesterday, Tiger-chan?” they sauntered over as Kotetsu settled into the nearest chest fly machine and grabbed the handles. “Did something happen to cool you down? _Or did someone get you all tuckered out..?”_ Nathan pressed a pink nail to their lips.

 _“Very funny,”_ Kotetsu yanked the handles forward with a grimace and settled into a rough, irregular rhythm. Nathan’s eyes widened.

“It’s the first one, isn’t it!” they pressed their hands to their cheeks. “Something did happen! Are you alright?!”

Several heads turned in confusion and alarm. Pao-Lin and Ivan stopped sparring and lowered their practice weapons.

“What’s going on?” asked Antonio as the others inched closer.

“That’s what I’d like to know!” replied Nathan. “So tell us!” they clasped their hands together. Kotetsu scowled.

“Can you all stop staring at me and talking about me?” he forced himself to continue his set of butterflies, glaring Nathan down the entire time. “First you outed me to everyone, and now you harass me about it every single week. Give it a rest.”

“To be fair, you usually humor me,” Nathan’s expression wilted. “You didn’t get burned, did you..?”

Pao-Lin and Ivan exchanged puzzled glances. Kotetsu heaved a sigh.

“Alright,” he released the handles and turned to the others, “this conversation is for guys and gals over thirty, so everyone else go to the other side of the room. Sorry, but that includes you, Bunny,” he added when his partner motioned to himself in disbelief. “Sky High can stay, but you’re on thin ice,” Kotetsu pointed to Keith, who rubbed his chin in thought.

“Thin ice is not a solid foundation,” was his verdict. “I’ll go with the others!”

“That’s a wise decision,” Kotetsu nodded as Keith put an arm around Barnaby’s shoulders and ushered him along despite his protests. Pao-Lin and Ivan seemed glad to be excused, while Karina gave Kotetsu a look over her shoulder, more concerned than annoyed, before joining the others. As they walked away and resumed their training, Nathan made a quick trip to the Kronos Foods vending machine for three bottles of mineral water.

“So I _was_ right, wasn’t I? That this is about your mystery date,” they passed Kotetsu and Antonio a bottle each. Kotetsu accepted the offering with a hum. “I can’t believe you’ve been seeing each other for five months and we still know next to nothing about them!”

“Well, they asked me to keep it a secret, so,” shrugged Kotetsu.

“I would understand if _you_ had asked them to keep it a secret, what with you being a Hero and all, but the other way around? That just makes it all the more suspect, you know?” Nathan idly stroked the towel hung about their neck. “Like it’s someone famous or influential, and it might cause a scandal if they were found out…”

“It’s not your boss, is it?” Antonio made a face.

 _“Mr. Lloyds?_ Get outta here. He’s got a wife and kids, too,” Kotetsu opened his bottle.

“Well, at least we know it’s not one of us, though there have certainly been volunteers,” Nathan shook their head with a lenient smile, ignoring the baffled look Kotetsu gave them between draughts. “But enough about that. They were a little too young for you anyway. So who else is eligible… _Oh!_ I know! It’s that judge you see in court all the time, the one that looks like a femme fatale drag act.”

Kotetsu choked and spat out his water. Luckily for him, Antonio unwittingly came to his aid.

“Now that’s just taking it too far,” he scolded Nathan, as if his suggestion hadn’t been just as awful. “It’s bad enough Kotetsu’s in court every other week. Give him a break.”

“Right, right… _Sorry,”_ Nathan lifted their hands in surrender. “But you do seem down,” they turned back to Kotetsu and opened their own bottle. “So what happened between you two?”

“Well… Things, kinda got weird last night. And this morning,” Kotetsu wiped his mouth. “I thought we had something special, but now it feels like all they want from me is sex.”

It was Antonio and Nathan’s turn to spit out their water.

 _“They’re using you?!”_ cried Nathan. “Sheesh! Tops can be so selfish…”

“Huh..?”

“You know,” Nathan pressed their index fingers together, “the ones doing the _giving?”_

“Oh, that’s me, actually,” replied Kotetsu.

_“Seriously?!”_

“What’s with that reaction?!”

“It was a compliment to your buns,” Nathan pursed their lips, but when Kotetsu gave them a flat look, Nathan clicked their tongue. “And here I thought I knew you well… To think I had you pegged as a total sub, _no pun intended,_ and you were actually a service top this whole time!”

“I’m not even going to ask,” Kotetsu squinted at them.

“I would, but I know I’d regret it,” muttered Antonio. Nathan giggled.

“What I really don’t get is why you’re obsessed with any of this,” said Kotetsu. “Like, once you get over the mystery part, what’s so special about me dating anyone?”

“The fact that we’re all single and you’re not, _that’s what!”_ Nathan threw up their hands in exasperation. “Sheesh! If it were me, I would rub it in your faces every single day, but here I am, a flower in full bloom, still waiting for my Prince Charming to show up…” they touched a flawlessly manicured hand to their forehead. Kotetsu chuckled.

“I’m sure he’ll turn up one of these days,” he gave Nathan finger guns. “I didn’t expect to find love at this point, or whatever this is supposed to be, and look at me now.”

“I’m looking, _I’m looking,”_ Nathan’s eyes ran up and down his frame. “You really should work on those abs some more.”

 _“Shuddup,”_ Kotetsu broke into a grin.

“Jokes aside, what are you gonna do, Kotetsu?” asked Antonio.

“I dunno.. I guess we’ll talk it out next time. I was gonna write to them, but maybe that’s being too clingy,” Kotetsu’s grin faded. “All I know is I don’t wanna ruin it. No matter how they feel about me, I’ve been having a lot of fun lately…”

“Says the guy who hasn’t been coming to the bar like they should,” Antonio nudged him.

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to cut back a little,” replied Kotetsu.

“Is that also because of your date?” asked Nathan.

“Kinda, yeah. The first time I took them to my place, they got nervous when they saw all the bottles,” explained Kotetsu. “I mean, the floor wasn’t littered or anything, I cleaned up and put it all away for recycling, but they noticed anyway, and it was awkward. Since then, I’ve been trying to cut back. Keep sober before, during, and sometimes after.”

“You’re a real man, Kotetsu,” Antonio punched his shoulder. Kotetsu jammed a fist into his side in retaliation. “Don’t be strangers, though. You wanna come hang out with us tonight?”

“I might. I’ll let you know in the evening, alright?”

“We’ll warm a seat _just for you,”_ winked Nathan. Kotetsu shook his head, but he couldn’t shake his grin anymore.

In the end, he supplemented his usual regimen with a healthy dose of abdominal exercise, and after a nap in the oxygen chamber, he and Barnaby returned to the office to wrap up their paperwork for the day.

Kotetsu pulled up his email, but closed it shortly after for good. If Yuri needed space, Kotetsu was willing to wait a few days so they could both catch their breath. In the meantime, he made a mental note to talk to Antonio, and ask him for a favor.

Sometime after six o’clock, Kotetsu said his goodbyes and left Apollon Media, arriving home a little after seven. He dropped his shopping bags in the hallway and vaulted over the living room couch to grab his rotary phone. He flopped backwards and dialed. It only rang twice.

“Hello?” came Kaede’s voice, crisp and clear. Kotetsu broke into a grin.

 _“Kaede!_ It’s Papa, Kaede!” he turned on the camera. Kaede did the same.

 _“Mannn,_ are you a sight for sore eyes,” Kotetsu’s grin widened. Kaede rolled her eyes. “How are you, Kaede? How was school? Your presentation was today, right?”

Kaede straightened and propped her free hand on her hip.

“My teacher said I did a great job! Mine was the best in class!”

“That’s amazing! Papa’s very proud of you!” gushed Kotetsu. Kaede gave him a look, but her face softened as she said,

“Thank you.. for helping, Dad. Legal stuff is _so_ complicated, but what you sent me was really easy to follow, so…”

“No need to thank me,” Kotetsu scratched his head. “Truth is, I had some help, too…”

 _Thank_ **_you,_ ** _Yuri. We didn’t even see each other that week, but when I emailed you, you still took the time to type it all down and send it…_

“…Dad, are you listening?”

“O-Oh? Sorry, Kaede! What was that?”

“I asked if Barnaby was the one who helped you.”

“You wish,” teased Kotetsu. Kaede groaned.

“Do you want to talk to Grandma?”

“Yeah, sure, put her on!” Kotetsu waved as she left her chair, and raised his hand again when his mother occupied it. “Hey, Mom, and how are _you_ doing today?”

 _“Well?”_ Anju stared at him expectantly.

“Well what?” Kotetsu quirked a brow.

“How was your date? You haven’t seen each other for three weeks, right? _Well,_ how did it go?”

 _Not you too,_ thought Kotetsu, but he bit his tongue and forced a smile instead.

“It went great! Just great, same as always,” his gaze drifted into space. Anju’s brow creased.

“Are you sure about that,” her tone rang flat. “Sounds to me like something happened.”

Kotetsu bit his tongue again.

“Am I really so easy to read?” he slumped back in his seat. “Feels like everyone was onto me today.”

“You think you’re being slick, but it’s written all over your face. So, what happened?”

“We had.. a misunderstanding, I guess,” Kotetsu said at last. “I thought we were more serious about each other than we really are.”

“You mean they don’t like you as much as you like them?”

“I’m not really sure. All this time I thought I was catching up to them, since they started this whole thing in the first place, but maybe I was wrong… it doesn’t make sense, though.”

“What doesn’t make sense?”

“I mean… If all they wanted from me was.. _you know.._ then why would they bother with anything else? It’s not like they _have_ to have dinner with me, or stay for the night, or help me with things like Kaede’s homework, but they still do it, even without asking. That, has to mean something, right..?”

“You like them a lot, don’t you.”

“I do. Nobody will ever replace Tomoe, but they don’t have to. They are different, and that’s fine. That’s how it should be.”

“Well, sounds like you just have to be patient, then,” Anju looked relieved. “Honestly, you’re doing fine either way. I wish someone nice could get interested in Muramasa…”

“Yeah,” sighed Kotetsu, but he smiled all the same. “Hey.. Thanks, Mom.”

“For what? _Listening?_ I’m your mother, of course I’ll listen. So, what are you going to do?”

“I’m gonna eat dinner and then go to the bar. Got invited.”

“Don’t drink too much.”

“I won’t, I won’t! I’ve been really good about it lately!”

“I’m happy to hear that. Take good care of yourself, Kotetsu.”

“You too. Tell Kaede Papa loves her and said good night.”

“Will do,” Anju nodded and hung up. Kotetsu did the same and set his phone down on the table, then grabbed his groceries from the hallway and headed to the kitchen with a spring in his step. Dinner for one or not, he had a lot to look forward to.

* * *

When Yuri left Justice Tower a few minutes after six, he still had no messages, and the idea continued to haunt him on his way to the supermarket and in the confines of his vast, deserted house. He paced up and down in the kitchen like a caged animal, starved for more than just a hot meal, and when the nursing staff finally brought Olga Petrov home, Yuri greeted his mother with greater warmth than he had felt for her in years.

“Ah, you’re back, Yuri!” Olga sounded equally pleased to have him. “Did you have fun at your friend’s house?”

Yuri hesitated. He had pierced the haze of her stagnant consciousness once and only once on the subject of Kotetsu, and the idea that he was seeing a man sent Olga into violent hysterics. A Tiffany lamp shattered inches from his head. His mother screamed and called him names, not just to his face, but in front of the nursing staff the next morning, and Yuri had to consider himself lucky that they regarded it as little more than a misunderstanding filtered through a diseased mind and blown out of proportion.

In comparison, treating Kotetsu as his friend from middle school became preferable. It prevented Yuri from addressing his problems, but his chest threatened to burst and she offered an outlet. He latched on.

“Y-Yes,” his hand slipped to his fringe with a nervous smile, to curl a lock around his finger. “We had a lot of fun, thank you, Mama.”

“I’m glad,” she cooed. “I’m so glad you’ve made a good friend at school. You like him very much, don’t you, Yuri?”

Yuri stared at her surprised, but she seemed perfectly immersed in her rose-tinted hallmark card world and regarded him with softened looks. Yuri stepped behind her and guided her wheelchair to the table set for three, glad for an excuse to hide his flushed face.

“W-What makes you say that, Mama?” he forced himself to ask as he fetched their dinner from the hot stove, one pot at a time.

“You always talk and smile more after spending time with your friend,” Olga explained patiently, as though it were perfectly natural that the fog in her head managed to strangle her sense of reality, but let completely random and transient details seep through and form clear-cut patterns.

“But to have a sleepover almost every week, Yuri…” she carried on once he joined her at the table and served her. “What _do_ you boys do when you spend the night there? Do you play games?”

Yuri clamped down on his bottom lip before he might have blurted out something vulgar, something actually worthy of a Tiffany lamp.

“We, talk about our interests… sometimes we watch films,” he strained to recall things that weren’t related to fried rice or intercourse. “We.. also play games, yes,” _I play coy and he fucks me,_ “and when we get tired, we say goodnight and go to sleep.”

“That’s what I thought,” his mother nodded along. “It’s so good of his family to have you over so often… oh, Yuri, why don’t you invite him to our house sometime? We would love to meet your friend, wouldn’t we, dear?” she turned to the chair on her right with a tilt of her head. Yuri’s skin crawled as he glanced to that empty space and back.

“I.. don’t think that’s possible, Mama,” he tugged at his fringe. “He has a strict curfew, you see…”

“Aww… well, I guess it can’t be helped,” Olga shook her head. “You’re both at such a delicate age, I really can’t blame his parents for being careful. To be honest, Yuri, I don’t think I could’ve let you spend the night there with a good conscience if your friend had been a girl, but since you’re both boys, it’s fine. Boys can be so physical, and a little selfish, too… It takes time for them to grow emotionally, and start caring about others and not just themselves, but you’ll understand all that when you’re more mature.”

Yuri’s fork and knife clinked against the plate.

“What..?” he stared at her wide-eyed and pale, his hands tightening on his utensils.

“Are you daydreaming, Yuri? _I said,_ you’ll understand when you’re more mature,” Olga repeated herself with a doting smile. “Right now, I’m sure all you care about is playing games and having fun, and think little about the feelings of others, or even your own, but when you’re older, you’ll discover the beauty of truly caring for someone, and committing yourself to a more serious relationship. _Ah,_ I do hope you’ll find yourself a nice girl when you’re older..!”

“I… I’m not interested in girls, Mama,” stammered Yuri, but her smile didn’t budge.

“Of course you’re not, Yuri,” his mother humored him. “Like I’ve said, you’ll understand what love is when you’re all grown up. Isn’t that right, dear,” she turned to her right again, and tilted her head with a calm “Yes, yes.”

With that, the subject seemed closed and Olga resumed eating in good spirits, while Yuri sat through the rest of the meal in hollow silence, unable to eat, speak, or breathe.

He hardly knew how, but that evening passed away like any other. When dinner was over, Yuri cleared the table and washed the dishes while his mother watched television. He showered and reapplied his makeup to make himself presentable one last time. He joined Olga in the living room for the news, and took her to bed once she had fallen asleep in her chair; and when he had no more strength left to occupy himself, Yuri wiped his face clean and crawled into bed, where exhaustion claimed him before his thoughts might have torn him apart.

* * *

Yuri woke up to a gray world.

He looked in the mirror and saw an apparition the color of ash. The only thing alive on that face was the scar, burning like a beacon in the fog.

His mother’s lips moved, but her voice washed up on the shores of his consciousness as debris and flotsam. He gave up on deciphering it. Memories of last night crept back on spider legs and tangled him in her words.

The drive to Justice Tower took an eternity, even with the radio on.

_No New Messages_

Yuri gritted his teeth. He lowered the floodgates and sealed everything away, then threw himself into the haze.

“Mr. Petrov, what is your opinion?”

“Here are the case files you requested…”

“That’ll be fifteen dollars, please.”

“We’ll put it on the agenda…”

“I think we’re done here, thank you, Petrov.”

_No New Messages_

The drive back seemed even longer than before. Leaks sprung up between the boards and the floodgates caved in, filling the car with flotsam and debris. It followed Yuri inside the house and lapped at his waist, climbing higher. By the time he collapsed into bed, it rose to the ceiling and left him suffocating.

Unable to sleep, he curled up in the middle and tugged at the hair he had let grow to defy the clock that stopped ticking the day his father died, as a testament to all the years they had spent in denial. Something visible to cling to, because as soon as his burns stopped aching, he was forced to smooth out the cracks with plaster, while his mother gathered the scraps of her happiest memories and sutured them together, trapping her mind in a marriage that still worked and her son in middle school. Every two weeks, Olga Petrov got her hair cut as she had done for over a decade, while Yuri let his grow as a measuring stick. She only noticed after he had graduated from middle school - in the outer world, anyway. As soon as he entered the house, the achievement disappeared, and he had nothing to show for his age beyond pale tresses of hair that grazed his shoulders. Without them, he might have gone insane.

As the years passed, he grew desperate for signifiers. He bought his first dress shirt at the start of high school, and in his final year, he replaced his school bag with a briefcase. He chose his ties and suits more carefully than his meals. When they first had sex and Kotetsu left marks on him, Yuri reprimanded him, but come dawn, he spent several minutes admiring those dark blotches in the mirror. He couldn’t show them to his mother, but their existence armed him; he could go home and play pretend without questioning how far he had come since adolescence.

He had a few marks on his right shoulder from their last date, but they did not belong to a fully matured adult who knew exactly what he was doing. Not anymore.

_You’ll understand what love is when you’re all grown up._

Yuri hid his face in the pillow, drowning in flotsam and debris that threatened to bury him alive.

* * *

The next morning, it took some effort, but he could breathe again.

For a while.

_No New Messages_

Yuri clenched his jaws and closed the window, then left the office for his nine o’clock meeting.

It was a mistake to get involved with Kotetsu, he told himself as he sipped his coffee and syrup in the forgiving darkness of the conference room. How did he ever delude himself into thinking it was necessary?

For all Kotetsu had done for him, Yuri didn’t love him. For all the excellent choices he had made during his career, Yuri couldn’t trust him. If by some miracle they could have become perfect strangers to each other, he would have seized the opportunity with both hands.

“Mr. Petrov, is there anything else?” asked Alexander Lloyds.

 _Yes, there is,_ Yuri clipped on a smile and stared the man right in his pretentious face, _I put it to you that Kaburagi T. Kotetsu should disappear from my life permanently, and you as his employer could solve most of my problems. Please fire Wild Tiger. I am not above begging you._

But instead what he said was, “No, I think that will be all,” and approved Wild Tiger’s next community event, his guest appearance in a radio drama, and Apollon Media’s designs for a poseable Wild Tiger figurine that doubled as a glorified refrigerator magnet. (And the same for Barnaby, but that was beside the point.)

At least it was finally the weekend, Yuri thought on the way back to his office. Not that anything could stem the tide of administrative and judicial paperwork, but being allowed to stay away from Justice Tower for a while brought some bittersweet comfort.

He pushed his key in the lock and turned it. The door gave way at once. Had he forgotten to lock it? He could have sworn he had—

Yuri’s heart skipped a beat. On his desk rested a large padded envelope that certainly hadn’t been there half an hour ago, with his name stamped on it in black marker.

Yuri took a step back and looked around. The hallway yawned empty in both directions. He slipped inside, closed the door, and walked around his desk, his pen knife drawn before he reached his chair. He cut the envelope, pressed the sides to widen its mouth, and tilted it over his desk with a light shake. A tie slithered out - the hook and clasp tie Kotetsu had torn two days ago -, along with a folded piece of paper. Yuri plucked it up with trembling hands.

_Fixed your tie. Sorry for everything. Have a good weekend._

_Kotetsu_

Yuri’s gaze fell to the eyesore in question. He lowered the note, but changed his mind at the last moment and tucked it in his jacket, then reached for the tie, scooping it up with both hands. On closer inspection, he saw a handmade reinforced stitch around the hem holding the eye, done in a thread that closely resembled the original.

He didn’t know Kotetsu could sew. He didn’t seem the type.

Yuri’s hands tightened on the fabric, but before he might have wrung it, he stuffed it back inside the envelope and banished it to his briefcase.

He stayed in his office for the rest of the day, save for two lengthy trips to the vending machine by the elevators, but saw nothing of Kotetsu, and by the time Yuri left Justice Tower a few minutes after six, he resented the weekend with all his wretched heart.

He didn’t love Kotetsu after all. He hated him, for all the pain and torment Kotetsu put him through.

* * *

Yuri stopped at a supermarket for groceries, and when he arrived home, he forced himself to cook dinner and eat it at the table like a sophisticated adult, to savor the present before the clock would unwind regardless of signifiers.

The bell rang ten minutes after seven. The hands ground to a halt.

“Yuri, I’m home,” his mother gave him a cheerful wave as the nurse pushed her wheelchair inside, and closed the door behind her with a bow. Olga paused to admire Yuri’s long hair and impressive height, his expensive designer tie and custom tailored lavender suit. Or so it seemed.

“Did you have a good day at school today?” she asked with a smile, and time unraveled in an instant. Yuri swallowed. His fingers sank into his fringe.

“I.. Yes, thank you, Mama.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Olga’s eyes followed him as he walked past her to push the wheelchair into the living room. “Did you get a lot of homework?”

“N-No.. No more than usual.”

“Good… go do your homework tonight, and then you’ll have the weekend all to yourself,” she twisted in her seat to give Yuri’s hand an affectionate pat. Yuri released the handles of her wheelchair and turned on the television, choosing a classic movie channel.

“Ah, that’s one of my all-time favorites,” his mother leaned back in bliss, and unable to take that away from her, Yuri turned around to do as he was told.

In the safety of his bedroom, he opened his briefcase, and glared at the large padded envelope inside. He snatched it up and tossed it into the bottom of his wardrobe.

He took off his suit, and draped it onto one arm while he reached for the right hanger. As he tugged the jacket onto the hanger, a folded piece of paper flitted to the floor.

Yuri picked it up and unfolded it. His jaws clenched and the note crumpled in his hands.

He didn’t even want the tie back. The psychedelic patterns were unpleasant enough, but the hook and eye clasp collar took the whole thing from tacky to downright offensive. What on earth possessed Kotetsu to spend money on that monstrosity, let alone give it to him as a gift?

A memory tugged at his sleeves: his first night with Kotetsu. Reaching for the other's tie, Yuri spent several seconds feeling for the tail and prodding at the knot until Kotetsu broke into laughter and popped up his shirt collar to reveal the hook and eye. Yuri stared at him blankly. He pinched up the severed ends of the collar and unhooked the clasp as though he were dismantling an alien artifact. Kotetsu pecked his lips in praise, and Yuri only regained his composure when Kotetsu spent a full minute struggling to untangle his perfectly ordinary tie. _The idiot…_

His face scrunched up. He stole a guilty glance at the envelope laying on the bottom of the wardrobe, but his shame proved stronger. He hung up his suit, tucked the note into its pocket, and locked it all away.

He closed his briefcase and lay down, staring at the ceiling. Around him, the mattress unfurled into the unknown like an endless wasteland, with duvets for shelter and nightmares for mirages. He roamed that wasteland on and off for hours, a sole castaway, unable to find his way in a place so vast, so barren and… _empty…_

_I hate waking up to an empty bed all the time._

_Don’t be ridiculous… I wouldn’t call that empty._

Yuri buried his face in his hands. Something hot oozed between his fingers, burning more than any flame.


End file.
